


dirtbag, baby

by mondaycore



Series: dirtbag, baby [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fuckboy Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21914254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mondaycore/pseuds/mondaycore
Summary: Whatever. It’s not like any of them say no to him. He’sCharles Leclerc.What are they gonna do,notcome crawling back to him?
Relationships: Alexander Albon/George Russell, Charles Leclerc/Alexander Albon/George Russell, Charles Leclerc/Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc/Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, charles leclerc/pierre gasly
Series: dirtbag, baby [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627021
Comments: 12
Kudos: 125





	dirtbag, baby

**Author's Note:**

> (so much for that hiatus, huh?)
> 
> some short & scrappy fuckboy!charlie, based on some bandom fic i read, man, a long-ass time ago that i wish i could remember the name of, and inspired by like probably 80% of the guys i went to college with (yikes). largely untagged as it's short and there's nothing _awful_-awful here — just a certain someone gleefully being an absolute unrepentant colossal dirtbag in bed. title by wheatus.

Pierre’s his go-to, the _ wyd? _who never fails to drop everything and show up all puppy-sad and hopeful, no matter the hour of the night or day. It would be cute if it weren’t so annoying, the way he mumbles _ s’il te plaît _ and _ te sens incroyable _around Charles’ dick in his mouth.

Charles’ personal policy is this: if you can _ talk _ during a blowjob, you’re not _ working _hard enough. So he snaps his hips in deeper, harder, but Pierre still looks up at him with cartoon hearts in his eyes, even as he’s gagging and choking on come._ Dieu. _ That sad, sad motherfucker is so head-over-heels that he thinks this _ means _something, and maybe it does, because there isn’t an asshole move Charles has found yet that stops Pierre trotting over as soon as he texts. It’s like the UberEats of getting his dick sucked. Charles isn’t gonna complain.

\--

He sleeps with Alex, and then he sleeps with George, but they’re like, _ together_, and that’s like, _ cheating_, so after they’re done having their softcore Vaseline-filter kiss-and-make-up sex, he sleeps with the both of them at once.

He makes George watch Alex suck him off and makes Alex watch him fuck George, and there’s definitely another conversation they have to have because they’re _ so clearly _ hot for it, but every time they make eye contact, they look guilty as weasels. It’s a total boner-killer, but years of couples counselling wouldn’t have uncovered this particular hang-up, so, uh, _ you’re welcome. _ And Charles, he gets off in the end and parts with a wink and an uncontested _ same time next week, boys? _— so it’s a win-win-win situation, as far as he’s concerned.

\--

Lando’s like a buy-two-get-one-free deal with Alex and George. Charles hooks up with him at first to capitalize on the discount, but he ends up coming back because the kid is so goddamn terrified of him, it’s_ hilarious_. Charles just has to say some shit like _ stay still and shut up_, _ or I’ll tie you up and gag you_, and then Lando gets all rabbit-in-headlights and freezes up, afraid to touch Charles, afraid to touch himself. Sometimes Charles will slap Lando around and choke him, or spit in his mouth and make him swallow it, because then _ for sure _ Lando will start tearing up. And Charles goads him on, because it’s hysterical: _ you gonna cry, pussy? you gonna cry like a little bitch baby? _

But sometimes Lando will start _ bawling_, snotty and red-faced and not at _ all _attractive, and that’s Charles’ cue to come in Lando’s ass and leave without returning the favor. Not his fault the kid can’t take a joke.

\--

Speaking of crying. Daniel. God. If Charles wanted _tears_ and _emotions_ and _fervent declarations of love_ mixed in with his casual sex, he’d go fuck a woman. But the dick is, _ comment dit-on _ … superlative. So Charles puts up with it.

It’s pushing it, though, the near-daily _wanna hang out? _and _thinking of you, baby :)_ texts, the little gifts and bouquets of flowers delivered to his door like they’re _together _or something. So every once in awhile Charles will schedule a date and never show up and never explain himself, or send a three-in-the-morning _you up? _text followed by _lol sorry wrong person_, or deliberately moan someone else’s name as he comes and pretend like he didn’t realize it. Just to teach Daniel a lesson. Teach him to get _ideas_ about things. Charles, he doesn’t _ do _ feelings. _ Gross. _None of that shit, now.

\--

Whatever. It’s not like any of them ever say _ no _ to him. He’s _ Charles Leclerc_. What are they gonna do, _ not _come crawling back to him?

\--

He’s stumbling back to his apartment after another late night, _ wink wink_, when Max comes out of nowhere and shoves him through the door and slams him against a wall hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

“What — ” Charles wheezes.

“I’ll tell you what,” Max snarls. “You’ve fucked all my friends, and they’ve all told me you’re a massive prick in bed.” He kicks Charles’ legs out from under him, and his knees hit the tile with an unpleasant jolt. “So I’m gonna do to _ you _ what you did to _ them_, and if you don’t like it, tough shit, you cut it the fuck out. And if you _ do _ like it, you leave them alone and beg _ me _for the favor of laying your pathetic whore ass. Understand, motherfucker?”

Max punctuates the point by shoving his hip into Charles’ cheekbone. Max is hard. Inexplicably, Charles is too. _ Painfully _ so. He closes his eyes and swallows unsteadily. 

“Gonna be a good boy and take your punishment?” Max sneers.

Charles nods, his face burning. Just the _thought_ of what Max might have in store for him, and he's just about there already. What the _ fuck_. 

“Give me a kiss,” Max says. Charles leans forward and mouths at Max’s dick, through the denim of his jeans, and tries his hardest not to cream his pants right then and there. God, he's like, _drooling_ for it. It doesn't make any sense to him, either. But Max smiles like he knows, and slowly pulls down his zipper. “Mmm, yeah. Now open wide.”

Charles whimpers and obediently opens wide.

**Author's Note:**

> _really_ oughta examine why all my fic is just various flavors of “charles leclerc sexually terrorizes his coworkers.” ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> the usual, of course: this is fiction of my own creation. please do not get the real world or the people mentioned in this work, involved in this work, and please do not share this work to any other platforms outside of ao3. annnd of course, THANK YOU all amazing people for reading this continued nonsense — i hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> (alright, NOW i’m gone.)


End file.
